


What do we do now?

by katemiller



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:33:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9372431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katemiller/pseuds/katemiller
Summary: What do you do when you can't take back what you said? What do you do once your feelings are out and leave you feeling raw? For Molly and Sherlock, their future is unclear and messy.





	

She traced her finger tips over the cracked surface of her mobile. She had barely had the strength to hold onto it when they were talking, but as soon as he hung up she smashed it into the counter, spilling her tea everywhere.

“Stupid,” she whispered to herself, watching her sad reflection in the broken glass. The weight of Sherlock’s call was still sitting on her shoulders and she wanted to drown out the sound of his repetitive words.

 _I…I love you. I love you._ Oh, how he sounded like he wanted to say it the second time! Why? Why had she done that to herself? Why had –

*beep beep* buzz *beep beep* buzz The sound of her factory reset ringer going off startled her out of her thoughts.

“Hi, Greg.” She leaned her head heavily in her hand.

“It’s Sherlock.”

* * *

 “Anything hurt?” she asked as she examined Mycroft, looking for any injuries.

“No.” He laid his hand on hers, drawing her eyes up to meet his. “Molly, I know you must have so many questions.”

“Just a few,” she gave him a small smile.

“About Sherlock.” His words chilled her to the bone and she froze. “Molly,” she held her hand up, cutting him off.

“I don’t want to talk about him.” She snapped off her gloves and walked out of his exam room.

\--

“John!” she rushed over to him and wrapped her arms around him tightly. “Are you okay?”

“Rosie?” he asked desperately once she had let him go.

“She’s good. She’s with Mrs. Hudson…we worked it out before I came.” She squeezed his shoulders gently before attending to a wound on his ankle. “What happened?”

“I was chained up at the bottom of a well,” he sighed and rubbed his face. “I expect the things that happen because of this job will never become normal for me.”

“That’s probably a good thing.” She finished cleaning the wound and wrapped a bandage around it. “There you go…now, what about this scratch?” She set to work getting a swab and disinfectant to clean his forearm. “How, how is he?” She wanted to curse herself the moment the words left her mouth.

“Molly,” John grabbed her arm gently, bringing it down to her side.

“No, John, I don’t want to talk about it or him or how you guys even know what happened…I just...” she took a shaky breath and closed her eyes. “I just need to how injured he is.”

“Physically, he is fine. But Molly,”

“You’re all set.”

* * *

 “Thank you.” John set Rosie down in her bouncy seat that Molly had purchased for her flat. _If she didn’t have children of her own, by gracious was she going to spoil her Goddaughter._ “Last minute, uh, appointment.” He shifted uncomfortably on his feet. They never talked about his therapy sessions, but Molly knew when he was in need of one.

“Of course…I never mind watching her.” Molly smiled. “I honestly wish I could spend more time with her.” He nodded and turned to leave but stopped.

“Are we…are we okay?” He looked back at her from the doorway.

She furrowed her brow and sighed.

“Yeah, we are.”  He nodded again and left. “Yeah we are, aren’t we Rosie?” She leaned down and scooped the Little Watson out of her seat. Molly smiled brightly as Rosie giggled at the swinging sensation. “Should we have a snack?” she asked brightly. Rosie blinked at her several times. “Oh, is someone getting sleepy?” Molly quickly made up a bottle and settled into the couch with Rosie in her arms. She enjoyed watching Rosie fall asleep – it was peaceful and personal.

Rosie had all but managed to finish her bottle when she reached up and patted Molly’s face with her little hands. She watched as Rosie searched her face looking for someone else. “Sorry, baby. I’m not her,” she whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek. “I miss her too.”

“We all do.” She should have screamed or told him to get out or at least been startled by his interruption, but she had been on edge for the past three weeks since they had all returned, knowing that at some point he would show up unannounced.

“Shhh,” Molly cooed at Rosie as she fussed, trying to see who the familiar voice belonged to. She heard him shuffling behind her as she rocked Rosie back to the edge of sleep. The three of them were silent as Rosie fought the losing battle. “Shhh,” she soothed her as she slowly carried her to her room and settled her down.

She silently closed the door and rested her forehead against it. She couldn’t do this, not today, not now.

“Molly?” His voice was soft and low and vibrated deep in her chest. “Molly, please.” She shook her head as she turned to face him, leaning against the door heavily, still not looking at him fully.

“I can’t…do this, today, Sherlock.” He knitted his brow as he stared at her; frowning slightly, he reached his hand out toward her face. “Not today,” she said again, batting away his hand.

“You need to know – ”

“I don’t need to know anything.” She pushed past him, wiping at the last few tears on her cheek. She busied herself in the kitchen hoping he would take his leave but found him on the other side of the counter when she turned to put the kettle on. She ground her teeth together and set about to make herself a cup of tea.

“You were standing there.” He laid his hands flat on the counter. “You stood right there.” She stopped messing with her tea and finally looked at him, properly looked at him. He looked awful. Tired. Sad. Confused. And Molly had the urge to reach out and hug him…or slap him.

“How…how did you know?” She whispered, the weight of the conversation coming back to hit her.

“Didn’t John explain?” He asked in confusion.

“Lestrade explained what he could…” She couldn’t bear to tell him that she and John didn’t talk about it because all he wanted to talk about was Sherlock.

He nodded in understanding.

She closed her eyes again, _leave it alone. Don’t you dare ask him. Molly Hooper, don’t you dare!_

“Tell me?” She asked as she opened her eyes.

“Yes.” He jumped on the response. “Molly, I – ” Rosie’s fussing from the next room cut him off. “I’ll go.” He looked at her a moment longer before tapping the counter and going to attend to his Goddaughter.

Molly finished with the tea and took their cups to the living room. She sat his on the table and snuggled into the corner of her couch as she waited for him to return.

“All okay?” she asked softly when he closed her bedroom door.

“Dirty nappy.”

Molly had to hide her small smile behind her cup as he went to dispose of the nappy. She wasn’t sure how on earth, in this moment, she could find it funny, but of all people, she never thought Sherlock Holmes would change a dirty nappy without arguing.

“Molly, you have to know that,”

“I made you a cup.” She nodded to the extra one on the table. He gave her a tight smile as he picked it up and took a drink.

“Thank you.” He shifted his weight back and forth as he stared down at her.

“For god shake, sit down, Sherlock. You’re putting me on edge hovering there,” she snapped in frustration. He raised his eye brows in concern. “Just, sit down. Please?” she asked rubbing her temple with her free hand.

He placed his tea on the table and unbuttoned his jacket as he sat. He was so close to her and she did her best to not physically withdraw her body away from his; instead she focused her attention on the swirling motion of the steam from her cup.

“From the beginning.” It wasn’t a question but an instruction that he followed.

He told her everything that had happened after his birthday. How John’s new therapist had turned out to be his mentally ill sister. That Mycroft had lied to him and his parents. How he had gotten to be a pirate for a few hours. That Eurus had enslaved all of the staff at Sherrinford – the connection between Moriarty and her. That they thought there had been a little girl in a plane and how Eurus was going to make him choose between John and Mycroft. How he worked out where she was and what she had done. And that he was still planning on visiting her because…

“Because she’s your sister.” Molly reached over and squeezed his hand tightly. He stared at her hand in his for a long time before looking up at her. “It’s understandable.” She let go of his hand and settled back into the couch. “She’s your sister and she is sick. You feel some – ”

“I meant it.” He blurted before she could finish.

“Please don’t do this.” She set her empty cup down and made to get up.

“Molly.” He grabbed her hand and his eyes pleaded with her. She let out a shaky breath and sat back down. “There was a coffin,” he said tightening his grip on her hand.

“Coffin?”

“It was small, and practical, and…”

“And made for me,” she said in understanding.

“The words,” he swallowed hard, “she wanted me to get you to say those words or she was going to kill you.” He dropped her hand and stood up, facing her kitchen. “So there you stood,” he pointed, “making your tea, and not answering your mobile.”

“I was having a bad day,” her voice was barely audible.

“And I was irritated that you didn’t pick up because it was _me_.” He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. “I didn’t want to say those words to you.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made you…”

“No, Molly,” he sighed as he pushed the palms of his hands against his eyes, trying to clear his head. “I didn’t want to say them because I knew I could never take them back.” He dropped his hands and sat back down on the couch.

“I understand now, you were just trying to save my li-life,” her breath caught in the back of her throat. “Thank-thank you.”

“Oh, Molly.” he cupped her face, brushing off the tears that had started to fall again. “Molly.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. She kissed him back as she laced her fingers with his, but only for a moment before pulling his hands away and sitting back. “I lo-”

“Stop.” She shook her head fiercely. “I know you do.” She stood up. “I’ve known for a while…probably longer than you have.”

“I-I don’t understand…” He sat on the couch staring at her, doing his best to compute what she was saying.

“You don’t know what to do with yourself, let alone your emotions…it was easier that way.” She started pacing as she talked.

“What way?” He looked angrier than what Molly had expected.

“You just being you…me just being me…not complicating it with anything that would get messy and eventually fail.”

“Then why did you want me to say it first?” He stood, the frustration and confusion overwhelming him.

“Because I was having a bad day and you were being a bastard!” She shouted before whipping her head in the direction of her bedroom, but Rosie stayed quiet. “If I was going to admit it out loud, then so were you,” she said wearily. “I just needed to hear it…at least once.” She sunk back down onto the couch. He slowly sat back down next to her and took her hand again.

“Well, what do we do now?”


End file.
